


All That I Am I Give to You

by Welsper



Category: Final Fantasy XII
Genre: Established Relationship, Incest, M/M, Marking, Post-Canon, Rough Sex, Size Difference, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:22:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22113277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Welsper/pseuds/Welsper
Summary: Whatever it takes to protect Larsa, Vayne will do.
Relationships: Larsa Ferrinas Solidor/Vayne Carudas Solidor
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23
Collections: New Year's Sins Flash Exchange





	All That I Am I Give to You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nan/gifts).



Music and paper petals rain through the open windows of the palace as the festivities are in full bloom. Laughter fills the halls and dining rooms as guests from all over Ivalice gather in Archades.

It is as much a celebration of Larsa’s birthday as it is of the anniversary of the official signing of the peace treaty between Archadia and Rozarria. A war spanning decades and centuries, finally laid to rest.

Or so the people would like to believe.

Vayne knows better. Knows of the movements on the borders, of the infighting of the Margrace family, of the barely concealed contempt for himself, all the open and the hidden secrets that Gabranth whispers into his ear.

The next war might very well be the last. Vayne would see to it that the last one standing would be Archadia. He can no longer rely on Doctor Cid’s and Venat’s help, but he would not see the Empire fall now, not after everything.

“Can you not smile even today?” A sweet voice cuts into his thoughts and a warmth Vayne only feels for one person fills him. Larsa grows more radiant with every year and Vayne knows not how he can love him ever more still, but he does. Perhaps it was so if one only loved a single soul.

Vayne smiles for Larsa and his brother immediately brightens. He looks beautiful in his layers of exquisite linen and silk and satin. The same beauty he displays in the peasant’s garb he likes to wear when he sneaks out of the Palace and thinks Vayne knows nothing of it.

The same wondrous beauty Larsa shows when he wears nothing at all.

Vayne reaches out and Larsa leans into the hand he places on his cheek. His skin is warm and soft and as always, all Vayne wants to do is hide him away in his chambers and cherish him in a way Vayne would thank the gods for Larsa wants from him. That is, if Vayne were a lesser man who did not know the gods had been banished to their own joyless little realm at last.

“I have a gift for you,” Vayne says and Larsa’s face is curious as he hands him a little velvet box sealed by a simple red ribbon. There is a shine in his eyes and a warm smile on his lips as Larsa opens it to reveal two golden earrings inset with diamonds. Vayne remembers how brave Larsa had been at ten when Vayne had pierced his ears after his brother had asked him to, releasing neither sound nor tear at the pain. Larsa is a humble young man, wanting for little but peace and the happiness of all, but Vayne knows of his enjoyment of the smallest of luxuries. It was a desire Vayne would gladly indulge, all he could give Larsa he would, his brother need only ask.

“Will you put them on?” Larsa asks and Vayne pulls off his gloves. Larsa’s breath hitches slightly as Vayne pulls out the sapphire earrings and puts them in the box before pushing in the new ones. Larsa raises his own hands to feel the gold jewelry and for a moment his fingers brush over Vayne’s.

As beautiful as they look on Larsa, a wonderful compliment to dark hair and bright eyes, the studs are a poor replacement for the ring Vayne wants to put on him and cannot.

But jewels and treasures and luxuries he can give Larsa and one day, a crown too.

“Thank you,” Larsa says. His hands rest lightly on Vayne’s shoulders and he raises himself to his toes to kiss him. It is the lightest of brushes, all they can allow themselves where they could easily be stumbled upon, and yet it only fuels the eternal flame of desire that burns in Vayne for Larsa evermore.

Vayne allows himself to run his fingers through Larsa’s hair and kiss his forehead.

“Let us not keep your guests waiting any longer,” he says then and Larsa nods.

They rejoin the banquet and immediately the hall lightens up for Larsa is an excellent host, and Vayne has taught him well.

“Your Excellency, I have not had the chance yet to thank House Solidor for its generous hospitality,” someone interrupts his thoughts. Vayne knows all there are to know, all those he needs to know, all those that might be useful for his cause. Duke Lorraine of the Kingdom of Ordallia is one such man.

“Instead I must thank you for making the journey here and honoring us with your presence,” Vayne says and lets himself smile.

“There is little in Ordallia that binds me now. My wife, Gods rest her soul, has left an emptiness and darkness in me. I have long grieved her, but coming to Archades has finally let me believe there is light in the world again.”

Vayne’s fingers grips the goblet in his hand a littler tighter as he follows Lorraine’s gaze towards Larsa, shining brighter than the sun outside as he is entertaining guests from Rozarria.

“Friends tell me of the… perils the Empire is in and I would be loathe to see her in such pain now that we have set aside our differences. What say you we bind our houses and face the dangers of the new world together? Let Larsa come home with me and fill my heart and home and the men you need are yours. Ordallia will stand at your side against the Rozarrian hordes and all else that may threaten your Empire.”

Vayne’s blood in his veins turns cold. He smiles.

“It honors House Solidor that you hold my brother in such high regard. Now, if I might invite you outside so we may discuss this in a more private matter,” Vayne says. The Duke falters only for a moment, too short a moment to catch for anyone less used to suspicion than Vayne before he halts his Guard moving to accompany with a gesture of his hand.

Likewise, Vayne orders Zargabaath to stay behind. A show of trust on both sides.

Vayne has no intention of honoring it.

Once the taking of lives had troubled him, but Vayne has long left those feelings behind. Lorraine makes a pathetic gurgling sound as Vayne turns the dagger in his stomach. He smiles still as guts soak his white gloves. He must remember to cleanse himself properly before touching Larsa again so that none of this filth would stain him.

Vayne leaves the corpse to Gabranth’s silent workings and knows no one will ever find it and for some time not even know it gone, least of all Larsa. Too much of a burden has already been placed on Larsa, too much pain and what little innocence hasn’t been destroyed, what little innocence _he_ hasn’t destroyed, Vayne wants to keep intact.

Already he knows who he can blame for the disappearance of the Duke when he is found missing forever more. What is sowing a little more strife in a world already ripe with it? If Archadia’s enemies tear each other apart before they could get to her that only plays into Vayne’s hands.

Larsa might want to protect the whole world.

But Vayne?

Vayne would burn that world down if that was what it took to keep Larsa safe.

* * *

“Did you have to invite the entire planet?” Larsa sighs as he sinks into the soft bed that awaits him in Vayne’s chambers. Vayne takes a moment to take in the sight of his beloved brother splayed out like that before he helps him out of his boots and his outer robes.

“Let the people rejoice in the presence of their future Emperor,” Vayne says and a sadness is written plainly on Larsa’s face.

“Speak not of your death as something so near,” Larsa scolds him and pulls him down with his arms around his neck. Vayne offers no resistance but braces his hands on either side of Larsa’s face to avoid crushing the small form.

“Besides, it will be your son or daughter sitting that throne,” Larsa continues and looks away when Vayne shakes his head.

“Brother, we… one of us will have to,” Larsa begins and Vayne silences him with a kiss. Larsa moans quietly and parts his lips for his tongue, open and accepting and sweet and Vayne is not deserving of this but takes it away.

“Without House Solidor,” Larsa gasps when Vayne lets him draw air for a moment, “should we both -” Vayne kisses him again, cherishing in Larsa’s whimpers and the grip he tightens around his neck.

“House Solidor is right here,” Vayne breathes against Larsa’s lips and claims them again, stilling that hunger in him no one else could ever satisfy. Larsa slides his legs open for him and Vayne can feel him hard already as he settles between them. “Let that be enough for now.”

He can see it in Larsa’s eyes and Vayne is sure something of the same worry is reflected in his own but neither of them can bring themselves to care now. Clothes drop, one by one, until Vayne can feel Larsa’s smooth skin bare against his own. It fills his cock to see him wear nothing but the earrings he gave him earlier and Larsa moves his hips to feel it rub over his thighs.

There is a flush on Larsa’s cheeks and Vayne does not know how this rotten land has produced something so beautiful. Larsa’s hair spills over the sheets and frames his face and if Vayne could, he would never let Larsa out of his bed again.

“Must you stare so?” Larsa asks, but there is no annoyance in his voice.

“Always,” Vayne answers and Larsa rewards him with a laugh. Vayne can feel Larsa’s thighs tremble under his fingers as he slides his slicked fingers between the cleft of his ass. He would use something else, something proper, but Larsa had always favored these potions he carried around. White Mage was an odd job for a man of House Solidor to take up, but Vayne cannot say he knows of anything more fitting.

Vayne distracts him with another kiss and Larsa opens easily for his fingers as he pushes them inside, caressing and stretching him until his brother’s slim hips move against his hand, needy and debauched and perfect. Vayne licks his lips as Larsa strokes his own cock, hard and slick from the pre-come already pooling at its tip. He would swallow his brother down, drink him dry but Larsa offers him something more.

“Take me,” Larsa breathes and Vayne spills the rest of the potion over his cock before pressing it against Larsa’s entrance. His brother whimpers in pleasure as it pushes into him, slowly, sinking deeper inch by inch. Larsa is so tight around him, as always – the sweetest pressure Vayne knows.

They shudder together as Vayne slides in deeper and he gives Larsa a moment to adjust. Light kisses are placed over Larsa’s face and neck and heaving chest as Vayne waits for him. When his brother clenches down around him and pushes his hips towards his, Vayne allows himself to move again.

Larsa’s breath comes out in the most delicious moan as Vayne pulls out halfway before thrusting in again, deep. Sweat pools on Larsa’s skin as Vayne pushes into him, again and again, taking what was only his, and he leans down to taste the salt on his skin.

“Vayne,” Larsa whispers, eyes closed and lips parted and cock pulsing between his spread legs and Vayne drinks in the sight like a less lucky man might drink in water. “Please,” he begs and Vayne has to breathe deeply to still that beast in him, waiting like in every man faced with something like this.

“Please,” Larsa pleads again, rocking his hips against Vayne’s harder, forcing a harsher rhythm Vayne tries to keep himself from. He has a hand on Larsa’s hip, to still him from moving too fast, from hurting himself, from making Vayne hurt him.

He isn’t sure if the surprise shows on his face when Larsa sighs in what is clearly frustration. Larsa’s eyes snap open and he pulls down Vayne with a hand on his neck. Their lips almost touch when he says: “Would you think me greedy if I ask for another gift?”

Vayne shakes his head.

Larsa smiles.

“Good. Then _fuck_ me.”

Vayne groans and his cock pulses in Larsa. Both his hands grip Larsa’s hips now, so tight that the pale skin turns even whiter and his brother shudders in pleasure. That beast Vayne sees no reason to shackle now and he drives in hard and deep, pushing the breath from Larsa’s lungs in whimpers and moans and finally, cries.

Larsa comes the first time when Vayne bottoms out. White splatters Vayne’s stomach but he does not stop and Larsa urges him on with spreading his legs farther.

Vayne fucks into him with increasing force, searching for a sign of discomfort on Larsa’s face but all he finds is open pleasure and want and love. The heat and friction is increasingly hard to bear, with Larsa clenching down on him in his afterglow but Vayne would make this last.

With every harsh thrust, Larsa’s cock stiffens more until Vayne can see him fully hard again.

“Yes, oh gods, like that,” Larsa whimpers and his hands drop from Vayne’s neck to his back as his brother drives him up the mattress with every forceful thrust. Vayne groans as he feels Larsa’s fingers dig into his back, leaving bloody streaks in their wake. He might not let Larsa heal them later – he quite enjoys the idea of his brother leaving his mark.

Larsa is crying out now, his head thrown back onto the bed as Vayne rams his cock into him, reaching deep within him with every thrust. The sounds drives Vayne wild and this time he does not hold back when Larsa comes. He fills him with every drop he has to give until it is too much for Larsa’s small body and spills out between Vayne’s cock and his hole stretched around it.

Vayne’s breath comes ragged and hoarse when he is through. Larsa fares no better, looking at him with glassy eyes as he tries to calm himself and fails. He whimpers when Vayne pulls his cock out and his legs tremble. Vayne does not think they could hold him now, maybe not for a while and finds himself proud of it. Vayne’s seed trickles down Larsa’s thighs and he would clean him up, but lets himself enjoy that view a little longer. Larsa gives him a little smile, though his cheeks are deeply flushed and so he must not mind.

Vayne sinks down next to Larsa onto the bed and pulls him into his arms. His small form is shivering, trembling and wet with sweat. Vayne pushes a damp strand of hair behind Larsa’s ear and the earring catches a ray of fading sunlight and shines.

“Thank you,” he hears Larsa whisper and kisses him gently.

“For everything,” Larsa adds and Vayne would ask what he means but he thinks, fears, feels _proud_ he knows already.

He never was able to hide anything from Larsa.


End file.
